


A Song In The Stillness

by agentpluto



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullenlingus, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:43:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6097804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentpluto/pseuds/agentpluto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weeks after a Fereldan Frostback attacks one of the Inquisition's camps, Inquisitor Amalthea Trevelyan is still healing from the injuries that almost cost her life. Cullen knows more is yet to come, however, with the Inquisition preparing themselves for another full-scale confrontation against Corypheus. With the pair unknowing of what the next day will bring, the Inquisitor agrees to share her first time with him.</p><p>-</p><p>Basically a continuation of the desk scene from the Cullen romance and how it goes for my Inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Song In The Stillness

The Inquisitor thought it came easier with time. Intimacy was something she thought she'd grow more comfortable with as she grew older, something that'd just come natural to someone when they were ready. Apparently not for her. Twenty five years old and she still was as virginal and innocent as a Chantry school girl.  
  


Sitting on the far corner of Cullen's bed only wearing her breast band and panties, Amalthea shivered and held herself tighter, arms crossing over her chest in an attempt to cover herself. Cullen himself had only just started making his way up the ladder to his loft. Not even fifteen minutes earlier, the two had been fully clothed and eagerly pressing into each other as they kissed on his desk. One thing led to another and Amalthea had offered to take it upstairs to his loft where they'd be more comfortable, and Cullen was more than happy to follow her up. Or at least he would after he'd picked up the wine-soaked reports from the floor of his office. It didn't take him long, and sure enough his head finally appeared over the top of the ladder. Her stomach started doing summersaults and she fiddled nervously with the bedsheets.

She never had been a people person. Back during her days back in Ostwick, she never liked to let anyone get close, physically or emotionally. Her parents were nobles, meaning Amalthea, being their only child, was expected to marry and keep the proud Trevelyan name going strong. Parties and balls were commonplace at the family estate as chances for suitors to try to win over the young maiden's heart. However for Amalthea, this wasn't to be. Men her parents had set up for her would be flat out ignored or completely shut down, that is, if she even showed up to the parties in the first place.  
  


The sound of Cullen clearing his throat pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked at him anxiously.

“Inquisi-- Ah, Amalthea, I--” Cullen stumbled, noticing her hesitation as he climbed off the ladder and made his way towards her. He was only wearing his pants and boots at that point, as the rest of his clothing had been tossed somewhere down in his office earlier as they made out.

“Cullen, I don't--” She started.

“If you don't want to do this, it's okay.” He pulled up his hand and rubbed at the nape of his neck. “If you're uncomfortable with going further, we can stop and forget this ever happened.”

She felt her cheeks heat up as she held her knees closer to her body, preserving as much warmth as possible in the chill of the room.

“I'm not uncomfortable.” She uttered with her head turned away to hide the blush flushing over her face. “I keep putting this off. It isn't fair for you.”

“Nonsense.” Cullen sat down on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. Amalthea uncrossed her arms.

“But... we keep getting close to... you know, but we always have to stop for my sake, because I haven't felt ready. We keep putting it off for another time.”

“Yes, but--”

“If I am to face Corypheus... and I do not succeed, there won't be another ti--”  
  


Amalthea was promptly silenced by Cullen leaning over and gently placing his hand over hers, curling his fingers underneath to hold her hand. She blinked and looked down, then back up at him.

“Don't say that.” He murmured. He was looking at her left hand, the one with the mark. His fingers turned it over so he could remove the bandage she had wrapped around it to inspect what hid underneath; the anchor. As the woollen bandage fell away, he traced the edges of the ugly black and green scarring on her palm and smoothed his thumb over it, the faint fade-glow barely illuminating his hands as he did so. “You will succeed. There will be another time.”  
  


They kissed again. Soft and gentle and calm, his warm lips moving against hers while he held her hand.

Before long, Cullen's mouth had moved from her own as he kicked off his boots, lips going down to kiss at her neck, then lower.

“Let me know if you need to slow down,” Cullen murmured from against one of her scars, a small raised line turned white as it healed near her shoulder, an injury from a past battle. He kissed it gently and brought his hands up to smooth over her hips. The milky expanse of skin was soft under his calloused fingertips as he circled over from her hips to her waist, and he could feel the stretch of muscle under skin as she started to shift. Amalthea's arm reached behind her to unpin the back of her breast band and Cullen couldn't help but watch as it fell from her chest to her lap.

He had seen her chest that bare only once before, after the dragon attack that caused the harsh, raised red-purple scars that etched their way over her shoulders and between her breasts. He leaned forward to trace his lips over one of them, a feather light touch over marks that he wished he could have prevented. He moved over her collar bones and down between the valley between her breasts. He could feel her gaze on him as she brought up a hand to thread through his hair.

Short fingernails scratched his scalp as she tugged gently on his hair to look up at her, and Cullen's honey-gold eyes met with her light blue ones. Ever so slowly, he inched his face towards hers again, the distance between their lips closing as they pressed into each other once again.

Once, twice, only a few chaste kisses before Amalthea finally let go and delved into the heat of his mouth once again. All the fear and anxiety, all the nerves melting away as she leaned back to lay on his bed. Cullen followed, their kiss barely parting as they shifted positions. A couple of moments later and they were finally settled; Amalthea laying with her head in the pillows as Cullen propped himself above and to the side of her on elbows and knees.

 

“Maker, you're gorgeous,” Cullen murmured, pulling back from the kiss enough to rest his forehead on hers. His hand came up to gently stroke a thumb over her jawline, “you okay?”

“Mmn,” she hummed the affirmative as she smiled up at him. He didn't want to even think about how long he'd been imagining her like this, and any fantasies he'd had before paled in comparison to how she actually looked right there in front of him. Amalthea Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste and leader of the Inquisition, with her hair fanned out against the wheat-coloured fabric of his pillows as she lay bare beneath him. Seeing her like this made his skin prickle with equal parts excitement and nerves.

To put it simply, Cullen was in complete and utter awe of her.

His hand slipped down from where it had been placed gently against her neck, down to palm one of her breasts, massaging the soft flesh as Amalthea gasped at the touch. He hesitated upon hearing the sound and looked to her for approval to continue. Her face was a mask of pleasure, eyes closed and bottom lip bitten down on. Her own hand snaked up to hold onto his shoulder until noticing his hesitation, then rolled her hips a little to encourage him, enough to press up against his own and earned a heady gasp from him.

“Cullen-- please..” She whined, needing more contact.

Cullen’s mouth descended onto one of her nipples and he rolled the bud underneath his tongue, and she gasped at his touch as he continued working the other between thumb and forefingers. He lingered for a while there, touching and licking around the dusty pink areolas, savouring the way they hardened under his attention. He even gave a few nips for good measure before his mouth moved on to the valley between her breasts, to where one of her larger and deeper scars carved through her skin.

Cullen stopped when he came to the edge of the largest of her scars, giving a small sigh at the sight of it before him. He wished he could have prevented them, the discoloured marks and warped skin etched into her. A painful reminder of the Inquisition’s failure to kill the Fereldan Frostback the first time around. The hand he’d had toying one of her nipples moved to trace over it, from up where it started over her collarbone, where the bone had been scraped and shattered by dragon claw and it now formed a dip under the scarred skin. A fingertip gently traced down from there, over her sternum where the skin was pulled taught.  
  
“Cullen?” Her voice was quiet in the silence of his room. He jerked his hands away from her, suddenly cautious.

“Sorry, does this hurt?”

She smiled sweetly at him and shook her head, bringing up one of her hands to thread through his hair, sweeping a few of the curls from his eyes, “no, it's fine.”

“Ah,” he looked back down at her chest, a little nervous to continue. However conflicted he was to continue, it didn't last, not with Amalthea's hand reaching for his, grasping one of his calloused palms and guiding it down, past her chest and towards the apex of her thighs.

 

The forwardness of the gesture was almost startling, however it was appreciated as he finally brought his fingers to rub against her through her small clothes. She'd attempted to muffle a moan by biting down on her bottom lip and that spurred him on even further. He kissed her on the lips, a chaste kiss compared to the last one they shared, before shuffling down the bed in between her legs. He pressed against her insistently, finding her clit under the fabric and pressing against it in such a manner to make her gasp.

It wasn't that long until Amalthea's hands had made an appearance next to his own, working around them as she started pulling down her almost soaked-through small clothes and revealing her glistening sex that hid underneath. She was already wet, he could see and _feel_ that, and all he wanted to do in that moment was wrap his mouth around that swollen little bud of nerves at her core, to gorge himself on her, feel her thighs on either side of his head and be filled with her scent, her _taste._ To be completely and utterly surrounded by her.

He willed himself to go slowly however, hesitant to touch her bare before she gave him the go ahead. He looked to her for permission and she nodded, and his fingers finally found the slick heat of her.

Underneath his fingertips he circled around her sex before finding her slit. One finger traced her and barely slipped inside, covering his fingers in the evidence of her arousal and sliding them back up to her clit. Her hands found the bedsheets and she took a hold, grounding herself as he gently circled around the nub.

While with one hand he insistently pressed against her, the other finally properly pulling her small clothes from her legs and tossing them somewhere to the side. They landed without a sound and Cullen didn’t care where they landed, was too enraptured by the Inquisitor laying out in front of him.  
  
  
“Cullen--” She muttered between clenched teeth, “Cullen, please…”

He took that as his signal to start. His fingers slipped into her and started to curled in a steady rhythm, and her legs twitched and she squirmed on the bed in response. The warm pressure around his two fingers as he moved seemed to lessen, just a little, as the inquisitor responded to the attention she was being given. She was getting wetter by the second, her hips unconsciously rolling in time with each of his movements as she was stretched. He kissed the inside of one of her knees slowly as he worked her. She finally managed to open her eyes and found Cullen kneeling and on his elbows in between her legs. His gaze caught hers and she broke it a moment later, looking away from him and to the wall beside her as to hide the even deeper shade of red her cheeks were flushing.

 

“‘S okay, right?” He murmured after kissing half way up her thigh.

“Mnn.” She hummed, still not looking at him. He paused his assault on the milky expanse of skin in front of him.

“Amalthea?”

“...It's-- It's okay.”  
  
She glanced down in time to see Cullen smile as he lowered his head back between her legs, and wasn't quite prepared for the feeling of his mouth closing around her. Amalthea's back arched off the bed as she bit down on her lip in a futile effort to muffle a moan. She mewled, Maker, she _mewled_ at the curl of his fingers as they hit that sweet spot right inside of her, and he'd be lying if that wasn't the best damn reaction he could have hoped for. The way Cullen's mouth pressed against her and moved in time with the gentle movement of his fingers had been more than enough to make the Inquisitor gasp and writhe, her legs quivering as they were swung over his shoulders.  
  
His tongue lathed a path around her clit before slowly flicking over it. She gasped and reached a hand down to grasp his free hand, and he held it. Their fingers entwined as he continued. With every movement, she squirmed more and more, trying to rock her hips into his face in a haphazard rhythm.

“C-Cull--” She choked out with eyes lidded. He curled the fingers inside her a little more and she swallowed down the gasp of pleasure that arose. Her voice was joined by lewd wet noises that filled the room, and Cullen would have been more self conscious if he wasn't so completely entranced by the woman coming undone in front of him.

His jaw started to get tired by the time Amalthea's entire body was shaking, bordering on her climax. He didn't give in, however. The noises that she'd been making as he worked were enough to encourage him to keep going, and that's exactly what he did. Seeing her drawn so tight, so ready and desperate for any kind of release made his cock twitch. Maker help him, here he was eating her out with a hunger the likes of which he never thought was possible for him. He didn't think any of this could be possible, not with her, not with the Inquisitor. Moans escaped her lips as she seemed too caught up in the feeling of everything he was doing to bother to keep quiet anymore. He pressed on, lathing his tongue around the bundle of nerves at her most private, then working down to give a few broad strokes to her entrance, sure to keep his fingers inside her moving in a come-hither motion, before making his way back up to her clit to swirl abstract patterns over it. He repeated that cycle, over and over until Amalthea trembled and tensed, finally giving in.

 Her body quaked and arched as she was overcome by her orgasm, a silent yelp caught in her throat as one of her hands fisted in his hair. Cullen just continued to work her through, slowing down a little yet still pressing against that sweet spot just inside her with his fingers, lapping hungrily at the super-heated flesh between her legs. He happily took all she would give, tiding her through until the violent trembles that ripped through her body slowed and eventually ceased.

 

He pulled back from her core and looked up, and was welcomed by the sight of Amalthea, breathless and panting with a sheen sweat covering her brow. The hand that had been holding his own had dropped to the bed as her chest heaved with each of her breaths. He grinned at his handiwork, the satisfied glow spreading through his chest as he thought to himself that _he'd_ done this to her, that _he_ had been the one to turn the Inquisitor-- Amalthea, into a boneless heap on his bed.

He brought his hand up to wipe his face, stubble still damp, and gently rubbed at her thighs, trying to ignore the aching erection he had straining persistently against the inside of his breeches. She looked gorgeous there, breathing still slowing and hair fanned out in a red halo around her on the pillow, a sheen sweat perspiring on her forehead and eyes cracking open to glance down at where he sat between her legs.

He was so caught up in simply the sight of her, he barely had time to register the sensation of Amalthea's hands grabbing his shoulders firmly and pulling him up, kissing him hard on the lips when he was level with her. She could taste herself on him, he knew that she could, but that didn't stop her from hungrily delving into the warmth of his mouth and moaning. His chest brushed against hers as he held himself above her, resting on forearms on either side of her and a knee between her thighs. Her fingers threaded through his hair, once again brushing them back from his eyes.

 

“Cullen?” She gasped in between kisses. “Your pants...”

“Ah--” He tried reaching down with one of his hands to the laces of his breeches, struggling to untie it himself. Amalthea reached down with both of her hands, still kissing him roughly, and undoing the laces and loosening the waistband enough to start pushing his pants down from his hips. As it moved down his thighs his cock was finally freed from its fabric restraint. It bobbed a little as it came free and stood at attention, brushing against the top of her thigh as she lay underneath him. They both broke from the kiss and he sat back to shuffle the pants properly off from his legs. She couldn't help but look at his member, and turned a bright shade of red as soon as she saw it properly.

He was thicker than two fingers but less than three, the tip a deep red and leaking precome. She wasn't completely oblivious to the male anatomy, yet she'd never seen one in real life before, only in crudely drawn pictures or anatomical diagrams in medical books back in library of her family's estate back in Ostwick.

“... You okay?” He asked, suddenly self-conscious of the way she was staring at his privates. Amalthea blinked and looked back up at his face, nodding.

“Yeah-- I just... yeah, I'm okay. I’m okay.”

She reached out gingerly and took it in her hand, fingers wrapped gently around his girth and slowly stroking. It felt good to have another hand down there that wasn't his own, however it was clear in how she moved that she hadn't done anything like this before. Too many touches to the head all too quickly, her hand moving at a stuttering pace. Too much and yet not enough. Soon enough, his hand joined hers, fingers wrapping around her own and helping her into a steady rhythm.

 He honestly couldn't believe the sight before his eyes, Amalthea looking so focused as she jerked him off, as if she was trying to savour the feeling of him beneath her fingertips, and he couldn't help but feel his cock twitch and goosebumps raise on his skin. Her mouth returned to him, giving open mouthed kisses to the side of his neck and the hollow of his throat. Maker preserve him, he wasn't going to be able to last much longer like this.

 Her mouth lowered and her hand sped up underneath his, gently squeezing and sending him bucking into her hand. Cullen had no idea she had it in her, but the way her tongue and lips and teeth were working over the thin skin of his throat, then his collarbone, and then down his pecs, he was fully aware he'd have marks to show for it the next morning. Not that he cared even in the slightest in that moment, not with how her hand was moving with his on his member and causing his hips to roll in time with her. His head tipped backwards a little as he let out a groan.

 

She tried pushing him to lean back with her free hand as her mouth continued its way down his chest, to his stomach, but he brought up his hands to catch her shoulder. Amalthea looked up at him and froze, concern flickering behind the arousal in her eyes.

“I'm sorry-- I-- Maker, is this the wrong---”

His hand slipped down from her shoulder, down her arm, to her hand where he entwined their fingers.

“You're not doing anything wrong.”

“Then what…”

“This is your first time, I don't want to rush you to do something like that.”

“But--”

“If you'll lay with me again, next time.”

She simply blushed and nodded, “Okay.”

 

He kissed her again, lips pressing roughly to hers, and one of her hands came to hook behind his neck, leaning back and bringing him down on top of her. His knees bent as they moved and he slid an arm underneath her hips to be able to gently lift her bottom half a little, enough to have her thighs set over his hip bones and settled down together once again, Cullen over her. He didn't really notice their lips parting until her surprised gasp melted into a pleased sigh and a huff of a laugh. His eyes widened as he heard the chuckle and he looked back to her face, their gazes meeting.

 

“What?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“You looked so serious.” Her smile was small and shy, and her hands traced small patterns on the back of his neck as they hooked together over his shoulders. “I forget how stern you look sometimes.”

There were a few moments where he froze, unknowing.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

She shook her head, “not at all. It just reminds me of when you're at the War Table, or with your troops, like you're concentrating, that's all.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and gave her a bashful smile in return to hers.

“I _am_ trying to concentrate, so it makes sense.”

When he went to press another kiss to her forehead, she tilted her face upwards, catching it on her nose instead and giggling a little once again.

“You missed.” She murmured, and Cullen leaned down to kiss her again properly in response, moving one of his hands down her body to the juncture of her thighs and torso, gently circling her clit again. She gasped into his mouth and he pulled back once again.

“Did I miss that time?”

His finger kept circling around her clit, brushing over it every now and then and causing her to arch up into him, and she just shook her head.

 

“C-Cullen-- Please--” She gasped. Her knees pressed into his sides as she’d tried to close her legs with him between them, all the while rocking her hips up into his hand.  
  
“Are you still okay with this?” He asked, his cock heavy between them.

“Y-yeah.” She uttered. “P-please… I ne-- need....”

 The head of his erection rubbed against her slit and he looked up to her for approval to continue. She nodded and her legs opened just a little wider for him, letting him slowly start to push himself in.

 

Cullen's arms shook with the effort to go slowly, entering the tight warmth of her inch by inch until he was sheathed inside her. Her toes curled and her legs wrapped around his waist, and he dared not move an inch before he  finally opened his eyes and looked to her.

Her thighs on either side of his hips, her hands reaching up to his shoulders to keep herself steady. Amalthea's face was flushed red and her eyes were watering, a couple of tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. He went to stop, to bring his hand up to wipe her tears and tell her it’s okay if she slowed down, however before he could shift she urged herself up and forward, and he couldn't bring himself to do much more than keep his grip on her hips as she filled herself with more of him, taking him deeper. The slow breath she released hid the hint of a whine, a small noise she stifled when she moved one of her hands from his shoulder to cover her mouth, embarrassed by the fact that she'd made it, apparently. Her forehead pressed against where her hand once was, her breath hot against his shoulder where it escaped between her fingers.

“Ah—Ama...” Cullen choked out, head tipping backwards a little. He'd had no idea how good it’d feel to be inside her, her softness and warmth and gentle breaths he could feel against his shoulder engulfing him in a wave of emotion and pleasure. It almost felt too good to be real, too much, to have him buried comfortably inside as her walls tightened around him. And he hadn't even started.

“Cullen?” Amalthea's voice came out as barely a hushed whisper. He'd been so lost in the feeling of her that he hadn't yet moved.

“Amalthea?” He replied, his gaze meeting hers as she pulled back to look at him. And she smiled up at him.

 A simple smile, warm and pure and Maker he couldn't believe how enraptured he was by her.

“Please...” She uttered. A simple request to start moving. He kissed her gently on the forehead, successfully this time, and complied.

 

His hitched groans and noises filled the air between them the way Amalthea's didn't. Their hips rolled in time with each other's, hitting that sweet spot inside her at _just_ the right angle and causing her to gasp and writhe beneath him with every movement.

They moved together in the dim light of the room, illuminated by the moon casting silvery-blue light through the hole of Cullen’s roof and the faint green glow of Amalthea’s anchor. The mattress creaked beneath them as the he continued thrusting into her at a steady rhythm, joined only by Amalthea’s soft gasps and Cullen’s groans as they drove each other closer and closer to their release. As they moved, her gasps became louder, more frequent, and it wasn’t long until Cullen noticed her noises tumbling into words. Begging quietly, her voice was desperate in his ear, repeating his name over and over as if it were a prayer.

  
His rhythm faltered, hips snapping forward at a faster pace as he hurtled dangerously close to his climax. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer, especially with the feeling of her walls clenching around him, and he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and neck. One of the hands propping himself up reached down to their joining, and Amalthea couldn’t contain the moan as his fingers seeked out her clit.  
  
She spasmed suddenly, and her back arched up into him as she found her orgasm once again. Her fingernails dug into his back and there was no way he could hold back any longer. The pinpricks of pain on his back only heightened his pleasure, and his hips pumped into her even harder as he carried her through her climax.  
  
Her muffled cry as she released, the scratch of her nails and the feeling of her clenching around him was too much. He was barely able to pull himself out before he came too, moving the hand he had pressed against her clit to himself, spilling on her thighs and stomach. He’d bucked into his own hand as he found release. His eyes slammed shut, milking himself for as long as possible.

 

When he finished, he knelt there in between her legs and trying to catch his breath, chest heaving with the effort. It took a few moments for Amalthea to blink her eyes open and look up at him, chest still heaving with the effort to try and catch her breath again. A lazy, satisfied grin spread on her face and when Cullen managed to look down, he couldn’t help but mirror it.

“That….” He started.

“Yeah,” she murmured, eyes lidded. He moved out from between his legs to collapse beside her on the bed, then rolling over push himself from the bed. He could hear Amalthea go to say something, to ask where he was going, however she went quiet when he neared his washbasin, dipping a washcloth in the cool water and returning only to wipe down her legs and stomach. She shivered upon feeling the cloth, goosebumps raising in the wake of every pass as he cleaned her bare skin. Upon finishing, he threw the cloth in some corner of his room, to be dealt with in the morning, and returned to the bed.  
  
Amalthea had already started shuffling under the sheets, moving slowly, exhausted from their earlier efforts, and Cullen joined her. He settled back down next to her on the mattress and pulled up some of the sheets to wrap around her. She squirmed closer to him, probably comfortable just lying close enough to feel the press of his body, and he welcomed the contact. Only moments later, he rolled onto his side, facing towards her and wrapping one of his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss onto her forehead. He could barely remember much more happening, his heavy eyelids slowly sliding shut. He’d heard a distant, sleepy “I love you” come from the warm body in his arms, and a comforting warmth filled his chest.

“I love you too,” he murmured back drowsily, his arms tightening around her as he finally drifted off into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> > uses a line from the chant of light as the title of a fic filled with filth  
> > prepares myself for the maker's wrath
> 
> I've never actually uploaded any of my smut before so I'm low key terrified of how this'll go down with everyone. But yeah, here we go, the first Amalthea Trevelyan fic and it's gone straight to porn.
> 
> If u wanna follow more screaming about my inquisitor, my tumblr is agent-pluto and my twitter is agentpluto
> 
> Kudos/comments/bookmarks are always appreciated <333


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